


You Don't Have To

by Catchclaw



Series: Mental Mimosa [101]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1950s, Denial of Feelings, M/M, Sex in Lieu of Discussing Said Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-06-22 07:21:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15576726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catchclaw/pseuds/Catchclaw
Summary: “The problem with me,” Tony said, “is that I don’t give a fuck, but I still kinda do.”





	You Don't Have To

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: The problem with me is that I don't give a fuck, but I still kinda do. Prompt from this [generator](http://colormayfade.tumblr.com/generator).

“The problem with me,” Tony said, “is that I don’t give a fuck, but I still kinda do.”

“That’s a novel philosophy.”

Tony leaned back against the arm of the couch, just enough so he could get out from under that glorious, distracting mouth. “Of course it’s not, but I want you to understand where I’m coming from.”

Steve’s grip on Tony’s cock tightened. “Now?”

“I mean, I think it’d be helpful.”

“Really?” Steve kissed the soft skin under Tony’s jaw and nuzzled his throat, his fist moving again, lazy. “Right now. Are you sure?”

“I just”--Tony fought the urge to fuck up into Steve’s grip--“I don’t want you to walk into this blind is all, Rogers. Don’t want you think this is something it isn’t.”

Steve laughed, a breathless brush that sank straight into Tony’s ear. “Uh huh,” he said. “So what is this then? Hmm? Do tell me.”

Tony gritted his teeth. “We’re friends,” he got out. “Friends who happen to be drunk and more than a little handsy and if we’re going to fuck--”

“Oh,” Steve said, fevered, “we are definitely fucking.”

“--then I don’t want it to mess everything up, is all.” He looked up, met Steve’s eye. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, Rogers, and I care about you and I’ll be damned if I’m gonna let my dick screw that up.”

“Is there something about your dick that you think might change my mind?” A squeeze, a slide of a thumb over Tony’s slit. “‘Cause from where I’m sitting, I don’t see it.”

“No, I didn’t mean--”

Steve made a soft, considering sound. “You know, the only word I’m hearing you say is _I_ , Tony. What about me?”

“Hmm?”

Steve kissed him, a summer storm of a kiss that echoed the maelstrom outside, the rain pounding the windows almost as loud as the roar of Tony’s heart. “I know you think I’m naive,” Steve murmured, turning his thumb over the head of Tony’s cock. “Or old-fashioned, maybe. Because I don’t sleep around. But let me be clear about something, huh, something that somehow you’ve never learned about me: I’m not a virgin, Tony.”

Tony felt himself flush. “Jesus, I know that. The walls in this place aren’t that thick.” He tried to stop himself from talking, but the whiskey won’t let him. “I heard enough of you and that Peggy girl last month to make your non-virgin status real fucking clear.”

That got him an eyebrow. “You were listening?”

“What? No! God, of course not.” Tony swallowed. “Uh, not on purpose, anyway. You know the walls aren't real thick.”

“Why didn’t you say something?” Those blue eyes curious. “You could’ve have asked me to tone things down. I would have.”

“Tone things down?” Now it was Tony’s turn to laugh, his voice shifting semi-hysterical. “You were having fun for once in your life, man. Pretty girl from the office finally lets you under her crinolines. Why would I tell you to stop?”

Steve sighed and he shifted, punched a fist in the couch cushion behind Tony’s head and rose up so there was space between them, space for his free hand to jerk Tony faster, and there was no way Tony couldn’t watch, couldn’t look down and see his best friend’s ovenmitt fingers curled around him, clenching, stroking. “Then that should’ve been a lesson to you: I don’t need a declaration of love to go to bed with somebody. You think I heard something like that from Peggy? Come on, Tony. Please. She’s shacked up with Clint from Accounting now, did you know that? And before me it was Barnes in Editorial.”

Tony was clutching Steve’s biceps--when had that happened?--and he was cursing the fact that they were still dressed, that his pants were only open wide enough for Steve to draw out his dick. Hell, Steve still had his tie on; loosened, ok, but still knotted neat around his neck. “Steve,” he managed, “fuck, I don’t, ah, _god_ \--what are you--?”

Later, Tony would wonder how he missed it, how the tone of Steve’s voice hadn’t stopped him dead in his tracks. He heard it, sure, but it didn’t sink in, didn’t register until hours later when their apartment was quiet and they were stretched side by side in the hurricane wreck of Steve’s bed:

“You don’t have to pretend that you care about me like that,” Steve said softly, a warm shadow of sad, even as his grip stayed unrelenting. “It’s ok. I’m gonna make you come anyway. And then I’ll fuck you good, Tony, so goddamn good, until you come for me again.”

_But I do_ , Tony thought, after, in the echo of the aftermath, his fingers finding Steve’s in the sheets. _I do care about you, Rogers. Why couldn’t I have said that_?


End file.
